Claudia and the Non-Art-Related Sketchiness
by mcpon14
Summary: This story takes place during a BSC meeting. Claudia is the narrator. Alternate Universe. Oneshot.


RIIING. RIIINNNNG

"Why do I always have to he the one that answers the phone," I muttered under my breath as I picked it up.

It's 5:34 on a Wednesday, and Kristy, Mary Anne, Mallory, Dawn and I were sitting in my room for yet another Babysitters Club meeting. Mary Anne and Mallory were sitting on the floor. Kristy was sitting in the director's chair as usual. Dawn and I were sitting on my bed.

Dawn was happily munching away on some Saltine crackers while Kristy was chewing on a bit of Mallomar.

"Yes. Yes," I replied to Mrs. Newton, one of our favorite clients as she was setting up a sitting job with us. "Okay. Tomorrow from seven-thirty to ten at night. Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Newton. We'll call you back with your sitter. Thank you. Bye."

"Mary Anne?" I asked. "Who's free?"

Kristy looked over at Mary Anne in a slightly exasperated way. Mary Anne looked down at our Club Notebook with a very serious expression on her face but she seemed to be clearly trying to quell some giggles that were trying to burst out. Her head was downcast in order to hide her struggles with it.

She looked up and cleared her throat. "Um, Dawn is the only one available," she informed.

Again, I went through the charade of looking at them expectantly waiting for one of them to use the phone to make the call-back instead of me for once knowing full well that it was a completely futile endeavor.

I called Mrs. Newton back and informed her of who was going to show up tomorrow.

"I might call Stacey tonight but I could do it right now if you guys want to talk to her?" I asked brightly.

All four of the sitters just looked at each other, stifling laughter. Mallory actually was the first and only one to break and let out a couple of chuckles. Kristy looked over at her and gave her a warning look. What is it with them today. I thought that they were past this. They were giggly during all three of the meetings of the first week of when the Babysitters Club first started out but it eventually went away and completely, too. And now it is back? I guess if they were holding it in the whole time, then a week is not too shabby of a period of keeping it together. This is why I missed Stacey: she was the only other mature sitter besides me in the group.

I felt kind of cross and it must have shown on my face because Mary Anne gave me an apologetic look. My annoyance quickly disappeared.

"Hear any juicy gossip at school today?" I asked in order to lighten the mood since I felt a little friction in the air between them and I. "I didn't actually see it but I heard from Emily that Grace had laughed so loud in English class at something that Cokie had said that she caused the whole class to stare at her. When she realized it, her face became so red."

"Oh, hmm. Yes. Mary Anne told me that Logan had told her about that too," Kristy replied then looked at Mary Anne pointedly. "Right Mary Anne?"

"Hmm?" Mary Anne's head bolted straight up facing forward, eyes wide. She looked at Kristy who was staring intently at her and said: "Oh yeah. Logan told me. During, uh, lunch period? During lunch."

Mallory, whose head had been down for most of this meeting while intently scrutinizing her hands, suddenly perked up. "What did you do to your shoes - er - I mean, sneakers?" she inquired.

"Oh!" I reacted. "I just put some glittery tassels on them. I'm glad you noticed. Do you like them? And I also painted some sheep on the sides. See?" I extended them out to them so they could get better looks.

"Ooh," Kristy said as she and Mallory grabbed a foot each and examined them, turning the sneakers from one side then to the other in their hands. Then Kristy gasped as she and Mallory let go of my shoes in trepidation.

"Where did you get these, um, tassels from?" she asked alarmed.

"From Artists Exchange of course," I replied curiously. They should've known this. I always get most of my art supplies from there.

"From where exactly?" Mallory asked looking around.

"Uh, hello, from Washington Mall," I replied slightly irked.

"No, we mean, for example, from there? Or there? Or there?" Kristy said while pointing to a different place each time. I turned to the places she pointed at each time.

"Um, there." I said pointing to the last place she pointed to. From my best estimation, it was probably where Washington Mall was in relation to my house but I really didn't know.

"Phew," Kristy and Mallory sighed in relief together.

Then to my surprise, they both in unison each grabbed my shoes again. They were each tugging at a leg of mine slightly as they turned the shoes over in their hands, studying them, while turning my feet with them. I felt sort of flattered. They seemed to be really interested in the artwork.

"They're not my best work or anything," I said startled.

Then they each tucked each of my ankles under one of their armpits and clutched tightly. At the same time, I felt someone grasp my wrists and put them together behind my back, holding them there.

"Da -" I began to say as I started to turn my head around to see who had did that but at that moment I saw Mary Anne standing poised over me holding my paint palette over her right shoulder so I faced her looking up at what she was holding. I looked at her queerly wondering what she thought she was going to do with that, but then she, in an arc-motion, brought down the palette on me with the flat side of the palette with the paint on it fully-faciing me. I thought that I would just get a few splotches of paint on my clothes and skin but instead a whole inundation of it came at my face. I tucked my chin in while closing my eyes hard and turning away from it as it splashed all over my face. But the liquid felt thin, unlike paint.

I kept my eyes pressed shut. I was too afraid to open them. I could still feel Kristy and Mallory holding my lower legs to their bodies and my wrists were still pinned behind my back.

"Dawn? Is that you back there?" I asked.

"We're really sorry, Claudia," Mary Anne said then sniffled. "If this doesn't work, we'll have to turn you over to Reverend Tate." She sounded apolegic and worried.

"This is VERY important. When you open your eyes, tell us what you see." Dawn instructed gravely. "But THINK before you speak." Dawn's tone was forceful but had an undercurrent of deep concern.

I scrunched my nose hard and knitted my brow. I bit down on my teeth even gnashing them a little. When I thought that I was ready to open my eyes, I did.

I looked around. What I saw was my typical Puritan setting. I was sitting on a log. My friends and I were wearing our frocks and bonnets just like all of the other women. We were outside with trees and bushes (Some can make you itch for a while if you touch them.) dotting the landscape with men working in the fields and women doing chores. I was sitting on a log. Mary Anne was holding a pail. It was only water that she threw on me. Thank God it was not sewage.

I looked over at the rock that was sitting next to me on the log. Oh, how I longed for it to ring just now.

I then proceeded to take the leaves out of my black shoes. I licked my finger and wiped away the smeared berry sketches I had made on them too. I wrinkled my nose at how boring and unstylish these were now. Way too opague.

Dawn and Kristy were holding torn pieces of bread in their hand.

After I had finished telling all of this to them, Kristy pointed at a bush and chuckled: "Washington Mall right? John was peeing on it the other day." All of us laughed.

I guess she was trying to lighten the mood.

We headed back to our homes to continue with our chores. We were coming back from our lunch break.

Then it suddenly hit me. I felt my body slowly become more and more suffused over by cold sweat. I had goosebumps all over my skin. My eyes flashed wide and they felt to be in a feverish state. Therefore, I hung back a bit and let everybody walk ahead as I lagged behind them bringing up the rear. I didn't want them to see my trepidation.

When I reached my house, I immediately ran to my sister Janine's log cabin, which was behind it. I reminisced about when I used to peek in on her through her slightly ajar door. She would be sitting in her chair with her back to me facing her computer. All I would hear were spurts of typing periodically. She seemed to live on that computer as far as I knew. When I reached there, the peek-hole gap wasn't at the door but was between two specific logs. When I looked in, her back was still facing me. She was unmoving. But instead of a computer sitting on the table, it was a flat slab of stone facing her. Instead of a light that filled the entire room, there was nothing but relative darkness. Then I remembered how she never leaves that cabin. The door is always locked except for when my mother brings her her meals. I started frowning and became sadder and sadder as the sight soaked into my mind more and more. Then I remembered what had alarmed me earlier, of which prompted me to run over here: I felt the relief of having had such a close call. I could've joined her in being locked up and shut off from society for the rest of my life.


End file.
